


The Ladder Theory

by TygerTyger



Series: Glorious Ponds [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TygerTyger/pseuds/TygerTyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy and Rory are in love. It's bloody obvious - any idiot can see it. So why can't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was itching to write more Mels, so hey presto! The ladder theory is a dodgy theory on relationships between the sexes. I have no idea where I'm going with this yet, hopefully it will work out.

Mels was sunk into the low sofa of the Ponds’ living room gazing up at Amy dubiously. “What?” said Amy, putting her hands on her hips and staring down at her friend. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

Mels didn’t answer; she put her hand on her forehead and rubbed a horizontal line, still giving Amy the same look.

“Well, you’re wrong. It’s a brilliant idea.” Amy crossed her arms and turned her face to the side haughtily.

“It is not ‘a brilliant idea’. In fact it’s probably one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard,” said Mels, speaking at last and pulling herself up to prevent being swallowed by the overly-soft couch cushions.

“Why? Why is it such a horrible idea to want my friend – _our_ friend – to be happy? It’s not like he gets much of a chance around here; it’s hardly a ‘buzzing hotspot’. How is Rory supposed to meet a nice fit, bloke in Leadworth?”

Mels dropped her face into her hands and grunted, “Urgh! Fine!”

“I knew you’d come around! Right, so I’ve already laid the groundwork…”

\-----

Mels was growing increasingly impatient with Amy and Rory. Rory, not brave enough to act, and Amy completely blind to the fact that she was in love with him. It was bloody obvious – any idiot could see it, if they just _looked_. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Mels knew the end of the story: that Amy and Rory would fall in love, get married and make – well – _her._

Either way, the signs were all there. Like, Rory taking off his jumper making his top ride up, and Amy drooling at him. He’d even _catch_ her drooling and not once think: ‘Hey, Amy’s checking me out, she must think I’m hot’. No, because that would make sense.

It was usually at this point that Mels would bury her face in a pillow and scream into it in frustration. She could easily have a word with them – ‘You two: you fancy each other, you should snog, get married, have a baby’ – but she resisted. They had to get there on their own, and they would, eventually.

Knowing that they would wasn’t making it any easier for Mels to watch this latest chapter in the never-ending saga of the ‘Almost-Ponds’. Amy had convinced herself that Rory was gay, of course, what else would he bloody be? Surely not the obvious: attainable and in love with her? No, of course not.

\--------  
  
Mels took out her mobile and rang Rory whilst Amy stood in front of her, listening. “Rory, mate. Here, me and Amy are going down to Gloucester tonight for a few drinks, are you up for it?”

“You want, me, to come with you and Amy again…what? Why?” Rory stammered out.

“What do you mean why? Because you’re our mate and we want to spend time with you, is _why_.”

Mels could hear a long pause on the phone followed by, “Right.”

Mels looked at Amy and shrugged. “Convince him,” Amy mouthed. Mels approached Amy and turned her around and pushed her towards the door. “What do you say, Rory?” she spoke into the phone as she closed the door in Amy’s – still silently arguing – face.

Mels lowered her voice. “Sorry Rory, she’s out of the room now.”

“Is this to do with what I told you last week? Oh God, Mels, you didn’t tell her did you?” She could hear him throwing himself back on the bed in torment.

“No I didn’t tell her, and to be honest, I’m pretty annoyed that you would think so little of me.”

“I’m sorry, I just… “

“I know, I know. But look, come out with us tonight; get your glad rags on. You never know what might happen.”

“But I have lectures in the morning.”

“I have community service in the morning; you don’t see it stopping me.”

“You really should take that more seriously, you know?”

“Yes, Dad,” she sang, smiling to herself. “You’ll come though, yeah?”

“Okay, but I’m going to leave before midnight,” he stated resolutely.

“Great. See you soon then, Cinderella!” she laughed and hung up.

“Amy!” she shouted out through the door. “He’s on.”

Amy burst through the door again. “All systems are go!”

 _Oh God,_ thought Mels, _if these two divs aren’t made for each other, I don’t know who is._

\-----

One week – practically down to the minute – after Rory, in an unprecedented state of utter inebriation, had broken down in abject tear-strewn anguish all over Mels’ favourite jacket, they were all back at the scene of the crime. This time, Amy was _not_ snogging some ape, but talking to the perfectly nice, lovely, gay, Colin – her friend from college.

Mels was glad not to have a repeat of last week. Watching your Mum have her arse felt up by some Neanderthal whilst your Dad wept on your shoulder, telling you how much and for how long he’s been in love with your Mum, was not something she ever wanted to relive. Not to mention the fact that she had to go and break said-Neanderthal’s nose for upsetting her Dad. This wasn’t going to be pretty either, but hopefully there would be less snot to contend with.

Amy took Colin’s hand and led him back to Mels and Rory. “I knew this was a mistake,” whinged Rory, eyeing the handholding. Mels nudged him with her elbow.

“Rory, this is Colin,” said Amy.

“Eh, and what am I? The cat’s mother?” asked Mels incredulously.

“And this is Mels, Colin. She’s a very angry young woman; stay on her good side,” warned Amy, smirking at her friend.

“It’s not Colin who has to worry about my _sides_ ,” she said, glaring at Amy but unable to fully conceal a smile.

“Colin,” said Amy turning back to him, “Rory is training to be a nurse, tell him Rory.”

“Eh, I’m training to be a nurse.”

Amy nodded, feigning an interest briefly before turning to Mels. “Mels, let’s go and get some drinks for everyone.” Mels rolled her eyes and allowed Amy to lead her away.

“What do you think?” asked Amy excitedly when they arrived at the bar.

“Of what?”

“Colin and Rory, Rory and Colin. Don’t they look adorable together?” Amy leaned an elbow on the bar looking dreamily over at the awkward pair.

“Adorable isn’t really what I would call it, uncomfortable more like.”

Amy smacked her on the arm. “Give them a chance.” Mels watched as the two men talked politely, there was a lot of nodding and then some laughing. “ _See?_ ” said Amy.

 _Oh, Amy_ , thought Mels. Then it happened, Colin touched Rory on the arm and left his hand there. Rory slowly turned his head to look at the hand and then at Colin quizzically. Colin’s hand retracted sharply and he said something briefly before turning to march over to the two women, leaving Rory in a state of visible bafflement.

“What the fucking fuck Amy? I thought you said he was gay?” Colin spat.

“What? He is gay,” replied Amy.

Mels glanced over to Rory, who was looking over at her with a questioning shrug. She indicated for him to stay put.

“No, he is definitely _not_ ,” continued Colin.

“Well, Colin, did you actually consider that he might not actually fancy you?” said Amy crossing her arms, “Hm? No, I thought not. Because everyone fancies Colin, don’t they?”

“Whatever Amy.” Colin threw his hand up in front of her face. “And you, what the fuck are you finding so funny?”

Mels realised that she was grinning widely. “Oh nothing, but you’re right, he’s not gay,” she said.

“Shut up Mels, he _is_ gay,” Amy interjected.

“Is this all some sort of joke at my expense?” asked Colin, looking over and back between the two. “Or is it a joke at _his_ expense? That poor fucker, having you two specimens for friends.” He threw them a pitying look.

“Oi!” Mels suddenly shouted, “Say what you like about me, but leave the ginge out of it. She’s the best fucking friend you could have and you don’t even appreciate it. Now piss off before I get really angry.” Colin made a weak attempt to puff up his chest before realising he was beaten and sloping off, muttering to himself.

Mels felt a hand on her shoulder. “What was that all about, eh?” Her body relaxed again as Amy rubbed her back soothingly.

“Sorry. He was being a prick.”

“He was just upset, Mels,” Amy said, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Look, Here comes Rory, not a word about what Colin said, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Rory said, sauntering over to them at the bar.

“Sorry Rory, Colin had to leave,” said Amy in a consolatory tone.

“Okay?” replied Rory, wondering why she thought he would care. “Well,” he said, looking at his watch, “it’s nearly midnight, so I think I’m going to hit the road. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

Amy’s hand shot out and held him by the forearm. Mels watched as Amy’s thumb stroked his skin and she looked him in the eyes. “Stay a little bit longer.”

Rory searched her face and swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”

Mels held her breath and wished she could evaporate to give them privacy. Amy looked away shyly and Mels noticed the slight flush in her cheeks. “Great, you can give us a lift home later so,” Amy said, breaking the spell.

Rory just nodded his acceptance, looking thoroughly gutted, as Amy strode off back to where they had left their coats. Mels sighed resignedly and then ruffled Rory’s hair telling him, “Next time, maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory could remember the exact moment he first fell for Amelia Pond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from Rory's point of view. I've always got the feeling that there is a sadness about Rory beyond his relationship with Amy so the second part of this chapter is where my head lead me with that.

Rory could remember the exact moment he first fell for Amelia Pond. He was lying flat on his back with a bloody nose when a red haired angel appeared above him and offered him her hand. Amelia, from the big house with the blue door – he knew Amelia, everybody knew everybody – but it still felt like he was seeing her for the first time.

“Don’t worry, they’re gone now,” she said as she pulled him to his feet. “They’re all afraid of me.”

“Why?” he asked, rubbing the blood from his nose with the back of his hand and smearing it across his cheek.

“They think I’m…” She mimed the universal gesture for ‘cuckoo’.

“Oh. And are you…?” He mimed it back.

“I dunno, maybe. Are you scared?” She looked down at her scuffed red-patent shoes as she swivelled them noisily on the gravel.

Rory thought about it and answered, “No, I’m not scared.” She looked up from her feet and beamed at him. It was a lie, he _was_ scared, terrified, but not of her being cuckoo, he was scared of the feeling in his chest when he looked at her. His eight-year-old head could not articulate it, but Rory was in love.

 

\-----

 

Ten years later two things remained the same – Rory was still in love and he still couldn’t articulate it. Sometimes he thought that maybe, just maybe, she might feel something too, but whatever glint he saw would be gone in a flash, leaving him questioning whether it was ever there in the first place. _Wishful thinking_ , he would conclude.

Amy had an imaginary friend when she was younger, the Raggedy Doctor. She made toys and drew pictures of him and her, and his magical box. Even at eighteen, she still had them littered around her bedroom, as though she didn’t want to forget. Rory often wondered why it was someone like _that_ that she had invented – someone who would just _leave_ her.

In the beginning it seemed so real to her how this man – this fully-grown man – had abandoned her. In real life, Amy had all of her family around her; she was never abandoned by anyone. When she was a bit older, she said that it had been a stupid dream, that it wasn’t real, but Rory wasn’t sure she really believed that.

When they were nine, her cat Biggles died. Rory had brought flowers for the back-garden grave and he overheard her say, “Why does everyone leave me?” They stood together and said a prayer then she cried on his shoulder and let him hold her for the first time. He wanted more than anything to tell her that he’d never _ever_ leave her, but he thought that it might scare her.

The older they got, the more difficult it became to be around her – loving her without her knowing it. She would wander around in just a t-shirt and knee high socks, completely oblivious to how it was affecting him. He knew he shouldn’t look, that it was disrespectful, but he couldn’t help himself sometimes. She was Amy Pond, the girl who all the boys chased after, but none of them loved her, not like he did. He was certain of that much.

But he couldn’t tell her – he couldn’t tell anyone – and he didn’t, until one night when he’d been drinking stupidly.

 

\-----

 

He was in a bar with Amy and their friend Mels. Even though they were all eighteen now, Rory still felt a bit sheepish drinking openly. Amy and Mels had no such qualms and he thought that he’d probably feel a bit more relaxed after a few. He was right, and he found himself watching the way Amy’s face lit up when she was telling a story and feeling his heart race when she’d touch his arm.

A few hours and a half dozen drinks later she was snogging some big bloke right in front of him. When Mels unexpectedly put a consolatory hand on his back, he couldn’t help it – he just started to cry.

“Rory, it’ll be all right,” she said, but that just made him sob harder. “Come here, you great big idiot,” she said fondly and he turned and clung to her, crying into her suede jacket. She patted his back. Mels was someone who was always around, more Amy’s friend than his, but there was something about her, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, that made him feel that he could trust her.

“Mels…I’ve never told anyone this…but I’m in love with her, I’m in love with Amy.” He sighed with the relief of finally speaking it.

“Rory,” said Mels, “what are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do, she doesn’t feel that way about me, look at her. Would she be doing that if she did?”

“She might,” answered Mels opaquely.

“Oh God, Mels, you have to get me out of here,” Rory said, remembering where he was. “I can’t let her see me like this.”

“Okay,” she said, sliding out of the seat and bringing him with her and out through the door. He sat on the low windowsill outside and put his head in his hands while Mels phoned for a cab.

“Rory, it will all work out,” she said unusually softly and not like Mels at all.

“You can’t know that,” he replied desolately.

“No, I suppose I can’t,” she agreed.

“Oh. Yeah.” she said, speaking into the phone, “Can I get a cab sent to Northgate Street? Yeah, heartbroken bloke sitting on a windowsill…” She smirked at him and he laughed in spite of himself. “…Williams. Going to Leadworth.”

 

 

******

 

 

Rory knocked softly on his Mum’s painted white door. “Come in!” he heard her call brightly from within and the tension dropped out of his body. He stepped into the room and said, “Hello, Mum!”

She was sitting at her dressing table brushing her hair; by her bedside there was a book left face down and open. He recognised both of those as positive signs and wasn’t afraid to ask, “How have you been?”

“Wonderful, darling. I haven’t felt this well in I don’t know how long.” She turned and got up to kiss him on the cheek.

He reached for her chart and flipped over a few sheets. “The new medication is going well then? That’s brilliant, Mum.” He beamed at her.

She took the chart from him and put it back into its slot. “But enough about me, what about you? How’s university?”

“Good, yeah. I’ll be starting my first stint of nursing placement in six weeks, I just found out today.” He looked away from her before saying, “It’s a bit away…it’s in Manchester. I won’t be able to come visit you from when I start until when I finish, I’ll be working odd hours…it will be a month.”

“Oh, darling, don’t fret. Your old mum will still be here when you get back,” she hugged him and stroked his hair. She always seemed so fragile when he hugged her, he didn’t dare squeeze as tightly as he would have liked. “You have to live your life, Rory.”

“I know, Mum,” he said as she released him and she pulled the sleeves of her grey cardigan down over her hands a bit. She went and sat on the bed and swung her legs up whilst he adjusted her pillows and then pulled the blankets loosely over her waist.

He sat down on the chair next to her. “I brought you the new underwear you asked for,” he said, indicating the bag next to the table.

“Thank you darling, I feel terrible asking you to buy me that type of thing, you shouldn’t have to.”

“You know I don’t mind,” he told her and put his hand on hers, “and anyway, Amy got them this time.” Her face lit up at the mention of Amy, just as it always did. No matter what her state of mind was, he could rely on that.

“How is she?”

“The usual – brilliant,” he replied.

She upturned her hand and held his. “Tell me, when are you going to get around to kissing her?”

Rory shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked away from his mother’s gaze. His scalp felt hot. “It’s not like that, Mum. We’re friends.”

“Friends who love each other,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“I told you before, Mum, she doesn’t see me like that.”

“Well then she’s a fool,” his Mum concluded and he looked at her; she was smirking.

“You have to say that, you’re my Mum,” he said quietly.

“I don’t _have_ to say anything. I still think you should kiss her though.”

“What are you reading?” he asked, changing the subject. She picked up the book and showed him the cover.

“Gulliver’s Travels,” she said. “It’s one way to get out of this place for a while.” Rory gave her a watery smile; his heart had lodged itself somewhere at the pit of his stomach. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, Mum.”

He wished he could change it all for her. That she could be well, live on her own and have a full life. He was gone beyond wishing that it had never happened in the first place, that his Dad hadn’t left her after she got ill – his Dad had to think of himself too. But still, Rory could never leave her. If all that he could do was be there and love her, that’s what he would do – even if it wasn’t enough to change anything.

 

\-----

 

After a while, he was sitting and watching her sleep when one of the nurses stuck her head around the door. He got up softly and exited the room.

“Hi,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“Hi Rory, how have you been?” she put a comforting hand on his arm.

“Oh, you know, okay.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “The new medication isn’t going as well as we’d hoped,” she began. “After three months her system should really be used to it. Doctor Foster is out at the moment, but she says she’ll call you when she gets back.”

Rory nodded. “I saw the chart, and her wrists.”

“She didn’t do too much damage, just a couple of scratches. We would have phoned you straight away if it was anything to be worried about.”

He sighed.

“Could you sign the incident report form for me?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, well used to the drill by now. She walked off down the corridor and he put his palm to the door briefly before following her.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know where this is going now, it's Macarena-bound, but it's going to get rough along the way and might have to skip up to the M rating, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory Williams was the bravest boy in school, but he didn’t know it, nor did anyone else, only Amelia did.

At first, the Raggedy Doctor was not imaginary; he was funny, exciting, and very real. He was going to come back, any day now, and take Amelia to see the stars. But he never did, and Amelia started to believe her parents when they told her that it had been a silly dream.

Rory Williams was the bravest boy in school, but he didn’t know it, nor did anyone else, only Amelia did. He wasn’t afraid to be her friend when no one else would. No matter how much she pushed him, he always came back and he always forgave her.

When Amy was nine she woke up and reached down to stroke her cat, Biggles who was lying next to her bed.  His fur was cool under her hand and she just knew that he was gone. Her Dad dug a small grave for him under the rose bushes and they buried him without ceremony.  Her Dad put a big flat rock over the loose soil. “In case of foxes,” he said.

Amy stood looking at the bare rock and thought of Biggles underneath; she tried not to think of the foxes. “Why does everyone leave me?” she wondered aloud, thinking of the Raggedy Doctor. But then she remembered that it had been a dream, that her cat was the first one to ever leave her, and poor Biggles couldn’t help it.

“Amy,” came the familiar voice of Rory behind her. “I heard about Biggles.”

She knew she was crying and she hated when people saw her cry, but somehow she wanted Rory to see, maybe he could help. So she turned around and looked at him and he came towards her.

“I brought flowers for him,” he said, bending down and placing some daffodils from his Dad’s front garden on the stone, making it look better. Prettier.

“Can we say a prayer?” Amy sniffed.

“I don’t know any prayers for cats,” he said, “but I can try.” He bowed his head and somehow knew exactly the right thing to say. “Dear Biggles, you were our favourite cat, we’ll miss you.” Amy dropped her head onto his shoulder and Rory timidly put his arm around her.  She moved and put both of her arms around his neck and hugged him, letting him hug her too. 

She forgot the foxes.

*   *   *

 

At fifteen, Amy found herself in the strange position of no longer having her classmates afraid of her. She now had much the opposite effect. The boys were falling all over themselves to talk to her and girls were behaving even more unusually. She was being invited to house parties, trips to the cinema and shopping expeditions. Not that she ever went, after years on the periphery she was not inclined to fall in with people who used to exclude her the minute they asked.

But there was Paul, the hot Rugby-playing sixth-former, and he asked her out. How could she turn him down? Even if Mels thought he was “The biggest smarmy, stuck-up cock in Leadworth.” She went out with him twice; the first time she thought that maybe she was being a bit too harsh when she found him to be an insufferable bore so she gave him a second chance. The second time they went out she realised she had been right the first time and not only was he mind numbing, he was also a thundering arse.

The Monday after her second (and last) date with Paul, Rory arrived late to Maths class and sat on the opposite side of the room to Amy and Mels – Rory was never late for classes. His jaw was clenched and he was shaking. Then over the PA, for the first time ever, the secretary called out, _“Rory Williams to the principal’s office.”_ He got up wordlessly and walked directly out of the room with the eyes of the class upon him.

Rory was suspended for three days for punching Paul so hard that he was knocked unconscious – the single blight on Rory’s spotless record.  Amy didn’t think he had it in him; he was always so gentle. She needed to know why, so she went to his door and rang the bell. After arguing with his step-mum – who, of course, blamed her – Rory finally came outside.

“What happened?” she asked as he was closing the front door so his step-mum wouldn’t be able to hear. “Why did you hit him?”

“Are you annoyed with me?” He was cradling his right hand in his left; it looked swollen.

“No! I mean, I should be, shouldn’t I? But I’m not. But why, Rory?” She took his sore hand in hers to get a closer look.

“He said some things that I didn’t like…about you.”

“What sort of things?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” he shrugged.

“But he deserved it, yeah?”

“He definitely deserved it,” Rory assured her and there was a catch in his throat as she turned his tender hand over.

“Sorry,” she said, and placed a kiss in the centre of his palm. “Thank you for standing up for me,” she whispered. “Now don’t do anything like that again, you big idiot.” She grinned at him and he laughed, but didn’t say he wouldn’t.

 

*   *   *

 

Mels couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Wait. What? Go through that again.”

“Rory stayed over last night,” repeated Amy.

“No, not that bit, that bit I can believe, the other bit. The bit where you said ‘…nothing happened.’”

“What else is there to say?”

“Rory Williams slept, with you, in your single bed, all night, and nothing happened?”

“Mels, he’s gay.”

“You’re still going with that, then?” Mels sighed. “And what if he wasn’t, what then?”

“There’s no point in even thinking about that, when he clearly _is_. Now shut up and budge over,” she said getting onto the bed sitting shoulder to shoulder with Mels. They both looked down at their toes.

“So why did he stay?” Mels asked.

“Because I asked him to.”

“Because…”

Amy shrugged out a sigh. “I wish I knew.”

\-----

Amy had been sitting in the dark by the window with the curtains drawn, staring at the stars. She was lost in thought. When she felt lonely, she always felt a little bit less so when she looked at the stars. She was glad it was a clear night because she really needed the stars right then.

There was something eating at her, a feeling of being hollowed out, of being left behind, forgotten. She didn’t know where the feeling came from, only that it would catch up with her sometimes when she wasn’t expecting it. She tried to pinpoint it, but it always slipped away from her just as she thought she was about to grab hold of it. She sighed heavily and pulled her knees up to her chest and held herself.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she said and the door opened to the familiar silhouette of Rory.

He came inside, shut the door and sat on the windowsill. “I just came over to give you that book from Mum,” he said and handed her the well-loved copy of Gulliver’s Travels. She took it and held it in her lap. “Thanks, tell her I’ll bring it back next time I’m up there.”

“She says you can hold on to it…Amy, are you okay? You seem a bit sad.”

She wasn’t okay, but she couldn’t explain it to Rory because she couldn’t explain it to herself. “I’m not sad,” she said, “just tired.”

His fingers were gripping the windowsill – she liked his hands, they made her feel safe. They made her feel better when there were no stars, and even when there were.

“Amy,” he said, “do you want me to go?”

She looked up at his face, his lovely, kind face. Rory’ face – its outline picked-out by the light of the moon and found herself saying, “No, don’t go. Stay with me, I don’t want to be on my own.”

She lay with her head on his chest listening to the racing of his heartbeat gradually subside, feeling his chest rise and fall through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His hand ventured up and stroked her hair.

“Rory,” she said quietly, “thanks.”

“For what?” he whispered.

“For making things better.” She kissed his cheek softly, lingering a little longer than she had planned, but then settled back into the crook of his shoulder.

Rory had a slight tremor in his voice when he whispered next, “Amy, I’ll always be here for you when you need me – no matter what.” She put her arm around him and pulled him closer. “I’ll be going to Manchester in a couple of weeks, but if you need me, just call and I’ll be straight down.”

Amy brought her hand back around and tucked it under her cheek. She had almost forgotten that Rory was going to Manchester – and she almost forgot herself. He said it was for four weeks, but four weeks can turn into four years in the blink of someone else’s eye. 

She told herself that the pain in her chest was tiredness and said, “Goodnight, Rory.” She turned around and looked out at the stars again, but they had disappeared behind clouds.

“Goodnight, Amy,” said Rory, gently kissing the back of her head and squeezing the top of her arm before turning around to the wall.

Amy closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Mels coming from here on in.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mels didn’t know why she had done it, why she had let her impatience get the better of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Potential self-harm trigger, dub-con, swearing
> 
> This chapter is set immediately after the scene in Let's Kill Hitler where Mels spills the beans and Rory rushes out. Mels' point of view.
> 
> This chapter might be tough-going (ref. warnings). The idea was what would someone with the ability to regenerate do if they found themselves in self-destructive humour. About the dub-con, there is stated consent, but as there is quite a bit of alcohol involved it's, at best, dubious. But there is nothing explicit and it's not in any way, shape or form sexy.

Amy would say that the Doctor was a silly dream she had as a kid, but Mels knew that he was no dream; he was all too real and waiting somewhere in the near future. Where Amy dreamed about a funny, exciting man, Mels’ nightmares were closer to the truth.  There was nothing in particular about them that she could grasp on to – the feeling of dropping suddenly, or the sensation of being trapped. There were no images but there was always a creeping sense of terror.  When she was awake, nothing scared her, not even the Doctor.  Nothing up until now.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen next. Amy was supposed to run to him and tell him that she loved him. He was supposed to take her in his arms and kiss her like he had always dreamed about, and it would be better than any dream, for all of them. But Mels could only stand and watch as the mess she had made unfolded.

She didn’t know why she had done it, why she had let her impatience get the better of her. Maybe it was the years of watching them both with sad faces when she knew that they could have happy ones. Or maybe she was just selfish and she couldn’t resist playing with their lives, using her foreknowledge when she shouldn’t. Mels could never resist doing what she shouldn’t. And this was the reward – to be witness to the lives of the only two people in the world cared about being ripped apart. They didn’t deserve this.

She watched as Amy caught Rory by the arm, turning him around and seeing his face glowing with embarrassment. She watched as Amy asked if it was true and his coy reaction followed by a nod of admission. She watched as Amy let go of his arm and stood in front of him and a tear streaking down from a hot eye. She watched as Rory asked her if she could ever feel the same, looking at her with tears of his own. She watched as Amy shook her head and the look on Rory’s face as his heart was being crushed. She watched as they stood sobbing for what seemed like an eternity but was only ten seconds, before Rory finally turned and continued walking and continued sobbing. _You did this, Melody Pond. You caused this._

Amy turned and started to walk back in Mels’ direction, but looked straight past her. Her face was twisted and pained. “Amy,” Mels said quietly as she passed, Amy put her hand up to indicate that she didn’t want to talk, and Mels watched her walk back to the house, shoulders dropped and heaving out sobs.  Mels thought she was going to be sick, she clutched her stomach and it felt as though snakes had made their home in her abdomen and had eaten her hearts. She needed to see Rory; maybe she could still fix it.

 

She stood below Rory’s bedroom window and threw tiny stones until he showed his tear-stained stony face. “Rory, I’m sorry,” she called up.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you Mels? You had to interfere, I thought I could trust you.”

“Rory…” Her voice was a croak.

“No, just leave me alone. I don’t think we should be friends anymore. You mess everything up.”

Hearing Rory, above anyone, say out loud her darkest thoughts about herself caused her stomach to lurch. She turned and ran out of the garden, hearing Rory’s window close as she went through the gate. She tried to control her breathing but she couldn’t – her diaphragm was in spasm and she heard her breath like a bark as she grappled for air. She could feel her hearts beating in her throat, she felt sure she was going to die. She stopped and stood against a wall and closed her eyes, telling herself that she couldn’t die, even if she wanted to. Eventually her lungs started to work again and her hearts slowed, leaving her feeling nothing but hollow and empty. It was worse than the pain, at least the pain felt real.

She wanted to feel again, she wanted to cut into her skin and bleed, but what was the use when she would be healed again by the morning? If she still existed in the morning. She wanted to cause lasting damage to herself that her Time Lord physiology wouldn’t allow. It would have to be her soul, but she would need to get out of Leadworth first.

Vodka was her poison. Years of practice and an efficient metabolism meant it took quite a lot to get to the state she wanted to achieve. She threw her ID at the Tesco checkout girl when she looked nervously at the four bottles of bog-standard vodka. She clinked out through the automatic doors to find somewhere to drink them.

She got about halfway through the third bottle before she was satisfied. Darkness had fallen enough to conceal her messy state. She abandoned the remainder of the vodka and staggered up the road to the roughest bar she knew. Somewhere Amy and Rory would never dream of going, and now she could go there because she didn’t have to worry about keeping them happy. Streetlights and faces streaked across her vision but her legs still obeyed her and carried her past the bouncer and into the bar. The warm, stale air hit her and the smell of a thousand spilled drinks made her memory as fuzzy as her vision. Far more happened than her brain held on to.

She was pushing him into the bathroom, kissing him but tasting nothing. She kept her eyes open because the room spun faster when she closed them. There were white tiles and a dirty floor. She pushed his head into the wall, hard. She wanted to hurt him so that he’d do the same – it was all she deserved. He shoved her back to the opposite wall and she pushed her hips out to grind against him. He entered her, rough and unready. She felt the pain, it was what she wanted; it was the reason she was here.

Then her memory started to capture every second: his pig-like grunting, the bruised feeling of her leg, and the physical pain inside her not cancelling out things like she had hoped. The passage of time seemed altered as she waiting for him to finish, seconds felt like hours as the overhead light burned her eyes. Finally he withdrew and slumped against her, smelling like stale cigarettes and stale sweat.  She forced him off and escaped out of the side door and into the alleyway. It stank of old chip fat and piss. The urge to be sick became too much and she leaned her hand against the wall and let it come. She closed her eyes and felt the sensation of spinning again as her legs weakened and she was heading for the ground. But she never hit it. Someone had grabbed her. She struggled but it was no use, she had no defences left. She closed her eyes and resigned herself to whatever was about to happen. It wasn’t the pig from the bathroom, it was someone else, he smelled clean and he was gentle and lifted her carefully. Then she passed out.

 

*   *   *

 

Mels woke up the following afternoon on her bed with a blanket pulled up over her. She was still fully dressed but her jacket was hanging on the coat-hook she never used and her shoes were clean and lined-up tidily by the wardrobe door. There was a jug of water and a glass on the bedside locker. _What the fuck?_ she thought. She had no recollection of getting home, but she was sure that she had left the place looking like a bomb had hit it; it was how she liked it.

Someone must have come home with her. _Fuck._ She remembered the man who picked her up in the alleyway _. Who was he?_ She looked around the single room of the bedsit for evidence but there wasn’t any. Whoever he was, he was stupidly tidy, even the bloody dishes were washed.

She reached over to the water and poured herself a glass, there were two paracetamol sitting next to it. She inspected them carefully; they were branded so she popped them into her mouth and swallowed them with the water. Her phone was next to the jug; it was plugged in to charge. She picked it up: twelve missed calls, one new text message, and one new voicemail. Looking through the list of missed calls she saw Amy and Rory’s numbers. The text was from Amy ( _Come over, I need to talk to you. xxoo)._ The voicemail was from Rory.

“Mels, please pick up your phone…I’ve tried ringing you five times.” She could hear the teary thickness of his voice. “I’m sorry about what I said just now, it’s not true, you don’t mess everything up. I was overreacting like an idiot and I took it out on you. I know you were just trying to help, I know that. Maybe it’s a good thing though, you know. Maybe I can move on now that I know…” There was a pause while he sighed raggedly. “I’m going to try and ring you again now, please don’t do anything stupid, Mels, please.”

There was a pain in her chest again, but this time it was altered. It was laced with something more fluid and warm. It crashed in a wave over her and suddenly a sob broke out of her, followed by tears. Years and years worth of tears all spilling out, it was frightening how much came, and how much it seemed to help. She rubbed at her face with her hands and looked around for something to dry her eyes with. Next to the jug, the glass and the lamp was a new box of tissues, something she had never needed to have before. _Who the fuck was that guy?_

Then she realised that she was still there – living and breathing and existing – there was still hope.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mels has a court date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last update but I have been beavering away, the remaining chapters should come along a bit more quickly. Mels and Rory time and a little foreshadowing.

Six weeks after Mels stole the bus, she received notice of her court-date being set for the following Tuesday. She really hadn’t meant to create such havoc, but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself. Leadworth was stiflingly small and everyone was always in her face — either that or whispering behind her back. So to live up to their expectations, she stole a bus and drove it through the botanical gardens. As usual, the unconsidered consequences came back to bite her in the arse.

Charges were pressed and having been caught red-handed meant that it didn’t take long for the police to gather the evidence. Now she was facing a court appearance and was probably going to be spending some time in prison. However stifling Leadworth was, she was certain prison was going to be far worse. She could run, but what was the point? Where would she go? Who would have her? At least when she was released she’d still have her parents to come home to. If they still wanted to know.

Thankfully everything had settled down a bit since she cocked up Amy and Rory’s friendship. They were both talking to her, but hadn’t actually spoken to each other since. It was killing them, she could see it, but there was no way she was going to interfere again, not after the last time. Rory had gone to Manchester and was, as expected, getting on well living away from home for the first time.

He hadn’t planned on being able to come home for the entire month due to his hours, but he texted the weekend before Mels’ court-date to tell her that he would in Leadworth on Sunday after getting an unexpected couple of days off. He asked her if she wanted to come over to his house (a rare invitation considering hers and his step-mum’s hate-hate relationship.) She could guess the reason.

“How has Amy been?” he asked after they had been sitting in silence for a little while.

 _Miserable. Missing you,_ Mels wanted to say but instead she said, “Fine, yeah.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Rory replied resolutely and then stared out through the front window. 

“Rory, will you come with me? To court, I mean…” She blurted it out before she could change her mind about asking.

“Me?” he asked, startled. “Not Amy?”

“Amy will just nag…anyway you have the car and you’re going back that way,” she replied, looking down at her hands resting in her lap. She wasn’t asking him for any of the reasons she had given. She would have preferred them both, but because she had to choose now, it had to be Rory.  She was terrified and Rory was the only one who had any chance of making her feel less so.

“What time is it at?” he asked

“Eleven, but it could run a bit late—”

“Okay,” he said, “I can drop you home too, but I have to pop in somewhere on the way back, so you’d have to wait—”

“If I’m coming home.”

“Hey, of course you are,” he said.

Mels shook her head. She knew it was inevitable; there was too much damage and too much evidence left behind. Add to that her being on community service already, and even her guilty plea couldn’t save her.  She’d _really_ fucking done it this time.

“Whatever happens, Mels, I’ll be with you when it does,” said Rory with far more sincerity and compassion than she could ever hope to deserve.

The boundless abundance with which Rory dispensed his kindness staggered Mels. Quite how he could possibly be _her_ father, she couldn’t fathom. She wished she had inherited even a fraction of it; maybe then she wouldn’t be such a constant fuck up and disappointment to him. She felt a hot prickle behind her eyes and stood up quickly to leave before it was too late. “Thanks, see you Tuesday.” She closed the door behind her and strode off into the evening air, swallowing down the sobs.

 

*   *   *

 

Early Tuesday afternoon, Mels was asked to stand before the court. The Judge listed the details of the charges and Mels could see the court reporters furiously scribbling down the details for their pathetic little rags and tutting readers.  She was asked if she wanted to revise her guilty plea; she just shook her head. For once in her life she was feeling neither defensive nor smug; perhaps it was because Rory was standing next to her.

As the Judge prepared to deliver her verdict, Rory reached for Mels’ hand and she didn’t stop him. She didn’t even care that he would know that she was trembling with fear — she actually wanted him to know. Her head swam when, instead of getting to the verdict, the Judge started to read the mitigations. She didn’t know about any mitigations — she didn’t think there were any — she hadn’t done anything _to_ mitigate.

“The botanic gardens were fully repaired, with six new rare specimen trees donated, and the bus repairs were paid for in full. Whilst the nature of the offence is still very serious, the court has been given assurances that the defendant is deeply regretful of her actions.” The Judge cracked a wry smile. “I am passing down a sentence of six months,” Mels held her breath, “suspended for two years.”

She released the breath and her jaw dropped.

The Judge continued, “The community service period currently in place is to be extended for a further two years. That should keep you busy.” She winked at Mels before dropping the gavel.

 

An hour or so later, having signed all the relevant documentation, Mels and Rory exited the courthouse, came down the steps and walked silently back to Rory’s car. They got in, shut the doors and sat quietly for another minute before Rory spoke. “What? I mean, how?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she replied, dazed.

“It was almost as if someone had called in a favour,” said Rory, scratching his head and pondering.

“But who in their right mind would call in a favour for me?” 

“I would, if I had any to call in,” said Rory, “but maybe I don’t fall under the ‘right mind’ part.”

“You fall directly under the ‘right mind’ part, you idiot,” she said smiling fondly at him. _Thank you, Dad._ She hoped some day she’d be able to call him that, but for now she had to settle for thinking it. “Now,” she said, fastening her seatbelt, “don’t you have an errand to run?”

 

*   *   *

 

Rory reversed into a parking space outside the residential home and pulled the handbrake. “I’ll be a little while,” he said, “but here are the keys so you can listen to the radio.”

“You’re handing a convicted bus thief your car keys.”

“I trust you,” he said and she felt an ache in her chest.

“Is this some nurse thing you have to do?” Her intention was to change the subject, but Rory paused awkwardly.

“No,” he said. “My mum lives here.”

The words sank in. She knew that other kids at school used to give him grief over his ‘mad mum’ but she had never thought about it much.  She only knew that his parents were divorced and his mum lived somewhere else. This, it turned out, was that somewhere else.

“Oh,” she said, not really sure how to respond.

“If you want, you can meet her?” he said.

“Oh, em…”

“It’s okay, I understand, it can be hard sometimes. Even for me.”

“No, that’s not it…” She wanted to say that this was her grandmother, one she never thought she would get to meet — that she was already a bit shaken after the morning and the thought of meeting this woman was both exciting and nerve-wracking. “…just a bit surprised to be asked is all. Has Amy met her?”

“Yeah, she comes up about once a month.” His look was distant for a moment and Mels thought that perhaps he was wondering if he should have phrased it in the past tense.

“She never said.”

“It’s not a secret, if that’s what you’re thinking. We just never really talk about it after we leave. I suppose…I like to keep it here, keep _her_ here, where she’s safe.” Mels understood, she liked to keep certain things in their compartments so that they didn’t bleed through into everything else — not that that stopped them bleeding through a bit sometimes.

“I’d really love to meet her, Rory.”

 

Mels could hear Rory talking to his mum on the other side of the white door for a couple of minutes before he stuck his head out and told her to come in. Mels rubbed her palms on her jeans and walked in, hearts pounding. “Mum, this is Mels. Remember I was telling you about her?”

 

A couple of hours later Mels and Rory were back in the car.

“Is she always like that? I mean, is she always so tired?”

“She has good days and bad days, this one was somewhere in between. They’ve been trying for years to get the mix of medication right, but I suppose she’s just stubborn.” Rory smiled.

“I wouldn’t know anything about stubborn,” said Mels with a smirk. “I really like her, though. She’s clever — like you.”

“I used to worry that I’d be like her — not the clever, but… you know.”

“Not anymore though?”

“Not for me, no. But if I ever had kids.”

The word rang the bell that had been sitting in Mels’ chest since she realised where they were. How could she be sure that the way she was, and the things she did, were all to do with what she’d been through? What if some, or all, of it was just _her_? What if she was like her grandmother? She saw her sitting in that room all of her days, looking out through the window, trapped in her own mind with only a book for company and thought, _What if that’s me some day?_   It made her want to scream or cry, but she did neither.

“Rory, I’m sure any kids you have will be fine,” she said, but she wasn’t sure at all.

“I hope so.” He looked suddenly inexplicably devastated.

“Rory, what is it?” Mels asked gently.

“It’s just…you know when you’ve had a picture in your head of your future for so long? It’s hard to change it. I used to think that maybe Amy and I—” He stopped himself and shook his head bitterly.

“For what it’s worth, Rory, I had the same picture.”

“Really?” he said, turning to search her for sarcasm that wasn’t there. “I always thought you didn’t like me much when we were growing up.”

“Why?” Mels asked, shocked by the revelation.

“I don’t know; you just seemed to resent me being around or something.”

Mels felt her eyes start to well and there would be no hiding it this time.

“I never resented you being around,” she could hear the tears in her own voice, still such an alien sound to her. “I just don’t think I knew that I needed your friendship back then.” She started to sob and there was silence from Rory.  “You always kept Amy right, and I didn’t want to let you do the same for me. I could see you trying and I just wanted to fight back…rebel.”

“Mels, why were you rebelling against _me_?” Rory asked, sounding shaky and unused not only to Mels’ tears, but also this unprecedented openness.

“You’re the closest thing to a Dad I’ve ever had.” She dropped it out in the open and hoped for the best. Rory was silent. “It’s pathetic, I know.”

“Don’t say that, it’s not pathetic. I’m glad I could be that for you, I just never knew that’s how you felt.”

“Imagine if I told you this when we were ten,” she said and they both thought about that scenario.

“A Dad at ten. Yeah, I think social services would have been round my house like a shot,” he said. Mels snorted a laugh and Rory handed her a tissue to dry her eyes.

“It’s been a long day,” he said, “I don’t blame you for being emotional.”

“This never happened, right?” She said, indicating her tear-stained face.

“Understood.”

“Do me another favour, will you?” Mels said drying the last of her tears. “Phone Amy, she misses you.”

He paused for a moment before saying, “I’ll think about it,” but Mels could see that he’d already decided; she had just given him the gentle nudge he had been waiting for.

“Well then, home James, and don’t spare the horses,” she said.

Rory started the engine.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about why Amy’s character draws; she draws to remember.

Amy was supposed to be studying. Her Dad really wanted her to go to University, but the thought of three more boring years reading books about boring people doing boring things was enough to send her to sleep, never mind the reality of actually doing it. What Amy really wanted was to travel, to get out of Leadworth and see and do things for herself. It had always been a vague plan in the back of her head but she didn’t want to go alone. _Now I’ll have to,_ she thought as she drummed the end of the pencil on the page she’d been drawing on.

It was Rory again; he was all she had drawn in the past five weeks. Even when she set out to draw something different, her pencil always went to him. This time she had drawn a memory of him at eight years old, holding Biggles on his lap. Biggles never let anyone near him other than Amy and Rory. He’d clawed Mels once for trying to pet him and Rory had to go and get plasters and scold Biggles. Amy laughed at the memory of poor Mels, and Rory sweeping in to save the day and make everyone feel okay again. That’s just what he did.

Amy rubbed her eye, drying the tear before she was forced to acknowledge it. She missed him, that much she could admit. It had been the longest spell since the day they met that she hadn’t seen or heard from him and instead of getting easier as time went on, it was getting harder.

She considered again the silly half-thought-out plan about going travelling together. She’d never once even mentioned it to him, was she afraid that he would say no? Or was it that he might say yes? She never knew how she was _supposed_ to feel about him. She hadn’t expected him to drop into her life all those years ago, it sort of ruined the view she had of herself as a kid. Amelia no-mates: it didn’t have to be lonely because she could do it all on her own, she wouldn’t need anyone. Rory changed that — the feeling that burned inside her chest when she thought about him now, told her that she definitely needed him.

She took her little finger and smoothed it over the drawing of his little-boy face, blending the shading around his features. The thought in her head spilled out over her lips, “My Rory.” She laughed at herself, because she knew he wasn’t her _anything_ anymore. He had been in Leadworth the day before and he didn’t call or drop over. She had to find out in the shop when she was picking up peas for Sunday lunch. Whatever it was that had made him want to be hers was broken now, and with it went their friendship.

She pushed the sketchbook away and took up her textbook again, looking at the words in sequence but not reading them. She was startled by a buzz from her phone on the desk. She gazed wide-eyed at the flashing display lighting up his name, just as it had a million times before, but not in so long.  She stopped for a second, just in case she was imagining it, but it was insistent.

RORY

Her hands flew to it, grabbing it and pulling it up to her ear and pressing the button to answer, “Hello?”

“Hello, Amy? It’s Rory.”

 _I know who it is, you big idiot,_ is what she would have said had it been two months earlier, but she just said, “Hello, Rory,” and closed her eyes.

“I was just ringing to let you know that Mels got a suspended sentence this afternoon. You know, so you wouldn’t worry.”

Amy’s heart was drumming but she kept her voice steady, “Yeah, she texted.”

“Amy, in case you’re upset that she asked me to go and not you,” he said, “Don’t be, she just didn’t want you worrying.”

“No, I’m not upset,” she said, even though it had upset her a bit when she found out, but she could see why Mels had asked him. “If I was Mels, it’s you I’d want there too.”

She thought she could hear a break in Rory’s breathing before he spoke again, “I brought her to see Mum after.”

“Oh. How did that go?” Amy was surprised, Rory was usually so guarded when it came to his Mum. He and Mels had seemed closer lately; when they were kids, Mels had said that she didn’t care what anyone thought of her, except Amy. But she cared what Rory thought too, maybe even more so. It made Amy happy to see them finally getting along like they should - she only wished it could be the three of them again.

“Fine, yeah. Mum was tired, but she really liked Mels.”

“Your Mum loves everyone, she even loves me.”

“Everyone loves you…I mean…you know. What are you up to tonight?”

“I’m supposed to be studying, but I’ve been sketching.”

“You’re back sketching? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, the mood just struck me, I suppose.”

“Have you been thinking about him again…the Raggedy Doctor?”

“A bit,” she replied. It was true but it wasn’t what he was asking. He wanted to know why she was drawing again, and it never occurred to him that it was because of him.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Of course not, ask away.”

“Why was it him, the dream you had? I mean, you invented someone who just left you behind, like you didn’t matter.”

Amy’s heart sank, she used to think up all sorts of reasons why the Raggedy Doctor hadn’t come back, when she had believed in him. She used to think that he had got lost, or stuck somewhere, but more often than not she’d decide that it was that she didn’t matter to him, that maybe he met someone else more interesting and didn’t want to come back to boring little Amelia. 

Amy sighed, “I don’t know. But that wasn’t everything about him. He was funny and different, not like anyone I ever met before. I suppose I was lonely, we’d only just moved to Leadworth and I didn’t have any friends yet. He was going to bring me to see the stars, we were going to have adventures.”

“You can still have adventures Amy, maybe not to the stars but the next best thing. The world is big and you can go anywhere or everywhere if you like. You don’t need someone to take you, you can do that on your own.”

Amy smiled. “Still would be nice to share it with someone, though.”

“You know, if he was real—” Rory stopped short.

“If he was real, what?”

“I think I’d lamp him.”

“What?!” Amy squealed with laughter, “Why?”

“He needs some sense knocked into him.”

“And you’re the one to do it?”

“I have a history of violence, if you remember.”

“That you do! I almost forgot about poor Paul.”

“There was nothing poor about him, he got off lightly if you ask me.”

“Oh really? What exactly did he do? You never told me.”

“It wasn’t what he did or said, it was how he said it.”

“Go on.” Amy encouraged.

Rory paused, thinking very carefully about what he would say next. “He talked about you as though you were nothing, like you didn’t matter.”

“Wait, that’s it? You knocked him out over that?”

“Yes,” he admitted quietly.

“Rory?” Her heart was in her mouth. “Did you…you know…back then?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you?”

Rory took a deep breath. “Do you remember that time four or five years ago when we were talking about the day we met, when you helped me up after James Little punched me in the nose after he found out about Mum? Well, since then.”

“Since we had that chat?”

“No, the other one.”

“Oh,” Amy said, the realisation sinking in. “But you were only seven.”

“I know,” he said.

After a long silence Amy said, “I miss you, Rory.”

She could hear his trembling relieved laugh and it was followed by his own admission, “I miss you too. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to lose you. I’ve thought about it, and I can get past this — you don’t have to be uncomfortable around me. It will just take a bit of time, but I can definitely do it.”

“Get over me?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ll be back on Sunday and we can talk about it then, if you want to?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, I’ll see you on Sunday then,” his voice was lifted and he sounded so happy. “Goodnight, Amy.”

“Goodnight, Rory.”

She hung up the call and put the phone down on the desk. She looked at the drawing of Rory and Biggles and picked it up. _Even then?_ He had loved her that day, and even though she remembered every detail of his face and his clothes and his expression, she had never once noticed the love. But there it was, as plain as day, and she had drawn it.  She flipped through the book, through every sketch she had made in the past five weeks and there it was staring back at her.

All that time, Rory had loved Amy.

And all that time, Amy had loved Rory too.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably two more chapters and perhaps an epilogue


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy makes an admission to Mels

Saturday morning and Amy was perched cross-legged on the chair in her room watching as Mels paced the floor.

“So I have a couple of theories about who this stalker pervert could be,” Mels said. “He’s definitely someone who knows me and where I live, which means he’s local.” She stopped and thought for a moment before resuming her pacing.

“He’s obviously got a lot of money and a lot of sway, so my first thought was Charlie Abbott? He’s definitely got the means and he’s _always_ perving, but then he’s a total stinking pig, and a slob. He’s always covered in his breakfast and I can’t really see him not sticking around to try it on after I woke up.” She paused and looked at Amy for her view but none was forthcoming so she continued.

“So then I thought about Gordon Barker; he’s _definitely_ the type who’d get off on scrubbing your dishes.” She shuddered. “But then again he’s not loaded at all, unless he came into some money, but I doubt it because he’s still going round in that old banger of his and bringing his lunchbox to work.” She stopped pacing and faced Amy. “So, in short, I still haven’t the foggiest, but I will get to the bottom of it.”

She looked at Amy who was certainly looking back, but didn’t seem to be seeing her. “Amy, are you listening to me at all?”

“Hmm? Yes,” said Amy, snapping back to reality. “Rich, powerful, fancies you, smells nice, does the washing up…what’s the problem again?”

“The problem is,” Mels replied through gritted teeth, “that he won’t show himself, he’s just lurking about watching from the shadows. Gives me the willies.” She rubbed her arm.

“He could be watching us right now,” said Amy, jumping to her feet dramatically and then furtively peeking through the curtain. “He could be sitting down there in his Lamborghini with a pair of binoculars! Or maybe he has the place rigged with tiny cameras and is watching us from his mansion!” Amy had picked up a Raggedy Doctor doll and pushed it into Mels’ face and wiggling it. “He could be watching you right now, what do you have to say to him?” she mocked.

Mels looked at Amy, entirely unimpressed. “I’d tell him he can fuck right off,” she said and swatted the doll out of Amy’s hand sending it flying against the wall.

“Ooh tetchy!”

“Time to change the subject,” Mels stated bluntly, “any suggestions?”

Amy opened her mouth to speak and promptly closed it again.

“What were you going to say?” Mels asked.

“No, nothing, it’s not important.”

“Humour me, come on, I need to take my mind off this creep and the bloody years of community service I’m going to have to do.”

“Well, okay, but sit down because what I’m going to say might shock you.”

Mels rolled her eyes and sat on the bed obligingly. Amy moved back into her chair, pulling her feet up underneath her bum. “Rory rang on Tuesday night.”

“Well I’m glad you told me to sit, because you could knock me down with a feather right now,” said Mels sarcastically fanning her face with her hand.

“Shut up,” Amy said, glaring at her friend and failing to supress a smirk. “That’s not the shocking bit.”

“Go on then.”

“Well, he told me that he’s had feelings for me since we were little, I mean, really little.”

“You don’t say!”

“You knew! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It was none of my business, was it? And when I did, finally, look what happened.” Mels looked down at her hands in her lap.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You know that wasn’t your fault?” Amy said and Mels shrugged. “Well it wasn’t, stupid.” Mels smiled and Amy continued. “But the maddest thing is, that maybe it wasn’t just him. Maybe it was me too, all along, since we were little.”

Mels sat bolt upright and stared at Amy. “Amy, what are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“I think you need to say it all the same,” Mels said, trembling.

“Okay, well then… I love him.” Amy blinked, startled at the sound of the words coming from her mouth. She looked at Mels who was bouncing on the bed and beaming with joy. “I love Rory Williams,” she said and started to grin.

Mels hopped to her feet and hugged Amy hard, jumping up and down. “Yes you do, you idiot! And you have to tell him, right away.”

 

The plan would have been flawless and perfectly executed, if in fact they had taken any time to think of one instead of running out of the house and hopping onto a bus to Manchester. Even if Rory had his phone switched on it would have gone smoothly, but he didn’t, so it didn’t.  Mels and Amy stumbled off the bus, necks creaking and eyes bleary. 

Their first port of call was Rory’s flat. Amy took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was a shuffling from inside and then the door was opened by a sleepy looking girl. “Oh, hello,” she said yawning and smiled. Amy’s mouth dropped open.

“Is Rory here?” Mels asked.

“I think he’s out. Cheryl! Is Rory in or out?” she shouted back into the apartment and another girl stuck her head around the corner, her hair wrapped in a towel and makeup half applied.

“He definitely went out, but I can’t remember if he had a shift or if he was going out for drinks with the rest of the class,” Cheryl said and then looked at the visitors. She pointed her mascara stick at Amy. “You must be Amy! See Ruth, she does exist, I told you so.”

“He talks about you a lot,” Ruth explained and Amy snapped her mouth closed and fought a smile.

“Where’s the party?” Mels asked.

 

Once they had the address of the party they said goodbye to Rory’s flatmates and went back outside. “What did you expect? You knew he was sharing with other nurses,” Mels asked.

“I suppose I just hadn’t thought it through.”

“You were jealous!” said Mels, delighted.

“No I wasn’t! Okay, well yes maybe a little bit.” She grinned.

“Right, so you take the hospital and I’ll check out the party,” Mels said, patting Amy on the shoulders. “Know where you’re going? Got your phone?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Right, call me at nine or if you find him, whichever comes first. I’ll do the same.”

They went their separate ways, giddy with anticipation.

 

\-----

 

Amy thought she knew where she was supposed to be going, it seemed straightforward when she had looked at the map back at Rory’s flat. She stopped and looked up and down the street, having somehow found herself lost in possibly the only area of Manchester where there were no people around.  She scratched her head and decided to cry defeat and phone Mels. She flipped through the names, but before she could hit the call button, the phone was snatched out of her hand.

“Hey!” she shouted at the hooded kid running off with her phone. He turned around, gave her the finger and ran off again. “Little Shit!” she roared uselessly. She looked around herself and realised then she was alone at night in a strange city with no phone and absolutely no notion where she was.

 

\-----

 

Mels stood outside the bar arguing with the hulk of a bouncer who was blocking her entry. “I said, I am a nurse!”

“You still need a ticket,” he said, crossing his arms in a fashion that might have been menacing had he not been smirking at the tiny brazen woman in front of him. “There’s nothing I can do, sorry.”

Mels jumped up to try to see into the bar over the bouncer’s shoulder and thought she could see Rory standing inside chatting to a group of people. “My friend, I can see him. Please, you have to let me in to talk to him. I’ll only be a minute.”

“No can do,” he said resolutely.

“You’re really ruining my night, you know?” she said, pouting and turned to walk away to try to phone Rory again.

“Hang on,” the bouncer said, whispering something to a passing glass collector who then disappeared inside the bar. “ _Him_ you said, right? Shouldn’t be too hard to find in there.” He grinned at her.

“Oh, I could kiss you,” she said stepping into his shadow and reading his name-badge, “Leo.”

“I’d have to stop you,” he replied with a wink. “I’m on duty.”

Mels bit her lip and raised an eyebrow, but was instantly distracted by seeing Rory emerge through the doors. “Mels! What are you doing here?”

“Finding you, thicko.”

“What’s happened, is something wrong?”

“No Rory, for once there’s absolutely nothing wrong.” She looked at her watch; it was almost nine and time to ring Amy. “Amy’s with me, but she went to see if you were at the hospital because your flatmates couldn’t remember where you’d gone.”

“Why is Amy here? Why are either of you here?”

“I can’t explain, Amy has to,” Mels said, putting her phone to her ear. She didn’t even say hello when the phone was picked up; she just screwed her face up at the tirade of abuse coming down the line. “Oi, you little fuck! Where the _fuck_ did you get that fucking phone?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one more chapter after this and I'm pretty sure I'll be putting an epilogue with it. Bank holiday Mondays are brilliant for productivity!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Macarena

Amy wandered, trying to get her bearings or find someone she felt safe in asking for directions; there weren’t even any shops around. She was probably panicking a bit more than she needed to, but with the way the day was going she could only see things getting worse — so she just kept moving, becoming more anxious by the minute.

She felt like she had when she was little and got lost whilst out shopping with her Mum. At first she had been fine — it was like an adventure — but the more she walked around, the more her mind played tricks. She started to imagine that her Mum was gone and even if she found her way home, that her Mum and Dad wouldn’t be there and she’d be all alone. By the time her Mum found her hidden in a rack of coats she was barely consolable.

She’d have given anything for a rack of coats to hide in as she strode sobbing and hopeless through the dark streets, invented threats lurking in every shadowy doorway. No one was coming for her this time, who’d even know where to look?

 “Amy!”

Was she imagining it?

“Amy!”

No she wasn’t.

She spun around on the spot and almost dissolved into a puddle of relief to see Rory running towards her and Mels following after.

“It’s okay,” he said as he reached her and noticed her state, “we’re here now.”

He stroked her shoulder respectfully, but she couldn’t stop herself falling into him and clinging to him, sobbing into his chest. “Hey, it’s okay, we’ve got you,” he said and held her properly until she’d calmed down.

 

 

All three walked together out of the darkness and back the bright crowded streets as Amy gathered herself. “Feeling better?” Mels asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know what got into me,” Amy replied. “How did you find me?”

“Don’t look at me, it was all down to Brave Sir Robin here. He got your phone back and everything. Here.” Mels passed Amy her phone.

Amy took it and looked at Rory in wonder. “But how?”

“I told him I’d give him two hundred quid if he met me with it, and told me where you were when he pinched it,” Rory replied with a humble shrug.

“He used his ‘trust me, I’m a nurse’ voice,” Mels explained with a grin.

“Where did you get two hundred quid?” asked Amy.

“I didn’t. He and his mates weren’t expecting Mels to be with me. We sort of winged it from there.”

“I caught two of them by their hoods and threatened to call their grans unless they forked it over. Amateurs.” Mels scoffed.

“So then we came looking for you,” said Rory.

“He’s like a bloodhound, this one, he found you in less than ten minutes.”

Amy looked at Rory, who was blushing, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing, anyone would have.”

“No they wouldn’t have,” said Amy softly.

“Why are you both here tonight?” Rory said, changing the subject and turning to Amy. “I’m coming home tomorrow. Mels said you had something to tell me?”

“Oh, I just missed you and really wanted to see you.” Amy caught sight of Mels rolling her eyes and shot her a warning glance. She wanted to do this on her terms; she didn’t want to hurry it. She couldn’t just jump straight in and spout it out. That would be rash, and terrifying. “Let’s go back to your nurse party,” she said.

“Great idea,” Mels agreed, grinning.

“Are you sure?” Rory asked. “It’ll probably be a lot of shop talk and hospital humour.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Amy replied and Mels put her arms around their necks and kissed each of their heads in turn. “Onward!”

 

*   *   *

 

Rory wangled a couple of tickets for the girls from his friends. Amy took his arm and they disappeared in through the doors, but Mels stayed a few steps behind. She put her hands on her hips and stood underneath Leo the bouncer — the top of her head barely reached his chest. He peered down over his crossed arms at her.

“You still on duty?” she asked.

“‘Fraid so,” he replied.

“Shame.”

“Isn’t it just?”

“Catch you later then,” she said and with a purposeful sway of her hips strode into the bar where she was hit full force by the cloying mix of perfume, fake tan and oestrogen. She knew that nurses were still, for the most part, women but it was slightly overwhelming to have so many of them stuffed into one room. All legs, shoes and makeup with hair persuaded into impossible structures. Their outfits were meticulously chosen and inconceivably current —which was the opposite of how the music could be described. Mels couldn’t remember the last time she had heard _Whigfield_ played in public, but she was pretty sure that it had been the previous millennium.

She cut through the sea of mental to find the island of sanity that was Amy and Rory; only they weren’t being very sane. She was hoping to find them at least talking at this stage, but they were just standing next to each other, looking around like a pair of frightened rabbits and something told her that Amy was chickening out. She marched over to them just as ‘the DJ that time forgot’ was firing up the bloody _Macarena_.

“Amy, a word?” she said, beckoning her friend to come with her and leaving Rory awkwardly on his own.

“Aren’t you going to tell him then?” Mels asked Amy once they were out of Rory’s earshot.

“Yeah, well I think so, but…I don’t know.”

“Well thank you for your clarity, but what don’t you know?”

“What if he’s changed his mind?”

“He’s just after tracking you down in the middle of Manchester with nothing but his Amy-homing instincts — there is no way that boy has changed his mind. Just look at him.” Amy looked over at Rory who was staring back, starry-eyed. “And look at you! You’re like a pair of disgusting lovesick puppies.”

“But what if it ruins our friendship?”

“Oh Amy, of course it’s going to ruin your friendship — that’s the point. You’re not supposed to be friends; you’re supposed to be more. Now, get over there and tell him how you feel.” She pushed Amy firmly between the shoulder blades, sending her stumbling back towards Rory. _What does it take for a girl to get born around here?_

 

“So, is anyone planning to tell me what’s going on?” Rory asked as Amy stumbled back over to him.

“Yes. I’m going to tell you. Right now, this minute.” She nodded.

“Okay…”

“Right. Well, do you remember what you said to me on the phone the other night?”

“Which bit?”

“The ‘going back to being friends’ bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I don’t think I can do it.”

The smile fell from Rory’s face, but before she could tell him that it had come out wrong, Rory’s flatmate was unexpectedly upon them.

“You found him then?” said Ruth grinning widely.

“Yeah,” Amy replied, wondering what the politest way to tell someone to sod off was.

“He never shuts up about you, you know? I feel like I know you already. He’s all ‘Amy this, Amy that,’ with that sad puppy-dog face of his,” she looked at Rory. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Amy laughed, delighted that she was such a feature of his life even when he was away. To think she assumed that he had forgotten about her! Her glee was short-lived.

“Ruth, not now!” Rory barked, uncharacteristically sternly and Ruth backed away mouthing _Sorry_.

Amy looked at Rory; he was really seething. “You came all this way to tell me what? That you don’t want to be friends anymore? That’s really unfair, Amy.”

“No! Well, yes…Ugh!” said Amy, desperately trying to get the words in her head to form themselves into a coherent sentence.

“What do you want from me Amy? Tell me what you want me to be and I’ll be it. Do you want me to be more impulsive, is that it? Because I can be. Look.” He started to do the Macarena dance moves surprisingly faithfully.

Amy shrieked with laughter at the sight of Rory doing something so, well, un-Rory.

“Oh great, now you’re laughing at me!” he said, exasperated, letting his hands fall to the side.

Amy couldn’t speak she was laughing so hard; she just mimicked what he had done.

“And now you’re mocking me!”

She was creased up, holding her stomach, but then she looked up at the sad look on his beautiful face and it knocked all the laughter out of her.

“Shut up you stupid idiot! I don’t want you to be anything other than who you are. I want you to be you. I _love_ you!” She was shouting loud enough to be heard across the room.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She watched as Rory’s expression went from desolation, to confusion, to realisation and finally determination. The two strides it took for him to reach her felt like an eternity. Her heart thumped as he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her in a way that was entirely new.

He dropped his face to hers, noses brushing off each other, and everything stopped. The dire music, the clinking glasses, the chatter, and all that remained were the two of them.

Their lips met for the first time, and after ten years — more than half their lives — the electricity was undeniable. Their friendship was ruined in that fraction of a second, because there was no going back now, not now that they knew it and felt it. What they had been wanting or avoiding or missing for all those years, finally realised the instant their lips touched. They melted into each other, mouths moving together and arms holding on tight.

They were plunged back into the room by the sound of rapturous applause and cheers. They laughed into each other’s mouths and just kept kissing, not caring even slightly that they were providing entertainment for a room filled with hundreds of nursing students, because they had just found each other and there was no letting go.

 

*   *   *

 

From the bar Mels watched the exchange, trying to figure out what on earth was going on. First Rory looked gutted, then angry. Then, inexplicably, he was dancing the Macarena. Then Amy started that too. It was like watching some sort of bizarre mating ritual on a David Attenborough documentary. Next Amy was laughing in his face. _It’s no bloody wonder they needed a push, what a pair of divs!_

But then Amy stood up and shouted, yes shouted, it.

Was it really, finally going to happen? Mels didn’t want to leave it up to chance. “Kiss the girl!” she roared out over the crowd and the room turned to look at her. Mels directed their attention to the two adorable idiots.

Mels thought she was going to pass out as Rory moved in and finally, finally kissed Amy. Her limbs turned to jelly; she’d been waiting for this moment as long as they had, longer even.

“It’s about bloody time!” she shouted over to them and the room erupted in a cheer. The two just kept on snogging and Mels couldn’t hide the smile pasted across her face as she said, “Idiots.”

“Are you this nice to all your friends?” came Leo’s voice from behind her.

“It’s a term of endearment,” she explained coolly.

“So, what was all that about?” he asked.

“True love.”

“You don’t seem like the type to believe in that sort of thing.”

“I’m not, but I believe in them.”

He signalled to the barman to bring them two drinks.

“So you’re off duty then,” she observed.

“Yep.”

“Good,” she said, hoisting herself up to sit on the bar and taking his face in her hands.

“How old are you anyway?” he asked.

“Shut it, you idiot,” she said and then shut it for him.

 

*   *   *

 

No matter how much Mels had wanted to see Amy and Rory get together, no matter how much she had longed for it, there was absolutely no way in hell she wanted to be in the same flat as her parents having awkward virgin sex with each other. She didn’t even want to think about it, so she told them that she’d meet them back at the flat in the morning.

When she arrived they were packing up the last of Rory’s things, Amy stuffing clothes roughly into his backpack from a pile that Rory had meticulously folded. Rory was checking off a list, making sure he had everything.

“Morning, Lovebirds.” she said as she sauntered in and they variously grinned and blushed.

“How was Leo the burly bouncer?” Amy asked cheekily.

“Amy!” Rory scolded.

“It’s okay, Rory. I wasn’t with Leo, if you must know, I went for a walk, had a look around.”

“Oh. Well, I thought he seemed nice,” Amy said.

“He _was_ nice.”

“So?”

“Dunno.” She shrugged.

She did know. The thought had struck her that maybe she didn’t have to be that girl anymore, the one who’d go home with every bloke she fancied the minute she met him. Maybe she could set her sights higher and hold out for someone a bit special. Someone she more than just _liked_. So she kissed Leo goodnight and that was that. She went for a walk around the city, watching other people throw up and fall over for a change. It felt different to be on the other side of the fence. It felt good.

On the journey home she sat behind them on the bus. Through the gap in the seats she could see them holding hands — her Dad’s thumb stroking her Mum’s hand. It was nauseating of course, but she had to admit that it was sweet too, and if it happened to make her feel a bit fuzzy, what of it? It didn’t mean that she was going soft. Amy’s head fell on Rory’s shoulder and he kissed her hair. _Definitely not going soft_ , Mels thought, rubbing at the warm ache in her chest and turning her head to look out through window at the acres of swaying wheat. She caught a brief glimpse of her reflection and decided that the soppy smile she thought she saw must have just been a trick of the light.

 

 

__

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue, hopefully early next week, but this is the end of this story.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo the Bouncer thought he was in for a dull evening at work, then Mels happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other Character's Point of View.

Leo had been expecting a monumentally boring night; two hundred nursing students at a private party meant no testosterone. And no testosterone meant that the most he could hope for was a bit of hair pulling or fall-down-drunkenness. Then Mels happened — completely out of the blue, tiny and ballsy and bloody gorgeous — what choice did he have but to give her the come-on?

Small as she surely was, she made up for it in enthusiasm: pressing her body up against his and snogging him full-on in front of his workmates… and his boss. But she was worth the ribbing he was going to get over it.

He was in. He had never been more sure about anything in his life as he watched her say goodbye to her, surprisingly drippy, mates. She sauntered back over to him and tackled him into another snog.

He wasn’t sure where he should let his hands go, because he was fairly certain she’d clock him if he guessed wrong, so he kept them on her hips until he got a clearer signal. She released him after a minute of assaulting his mouth and sucking his tongue until it hurt and stood down onto the ground looking up at him.

She was game — she was definitely game — wasn’t she?

“So, what now?” he asked, wondering why he was feeling slightly terrified of this pint-sized woman. He could see something going on behind her eyes, some sort of plotting or calculating. His heart was racing at the thought of what she might do to him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and for the first time in his life he thought of taking the latter option of the fight-or-flight response.

“Now, Leo,” she said, cocking her head to one side, “it’s time to say goodnight.”

_Oh._

“Can I have your number?” His voice sounded odd. Was he whingeing?

“No point,” she replied and shrugged a half apology.

“Oh, okay.”

“Night-night,” she said and hopped up to kiss him on the cheek, then turned and walked off.

He stood watching after her as she rounded the corner and consigned herself to becoming an exaggerated story he’d tell his mates later. He tried to parse it; had he said or done something wrong? And should he not be a bit relieved right now, considering how much trouble she would have been for him?

All of a sudden he was being clapped roughly on the shoulder and someone was slinging a lanky arm around him.

“Not to worry, eh?” the man said as Leo turned his head to see exactly how drunk someone needed to be to dream of taking him on — not at all it seemed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Rude! Not interfering is what I’m doing. What about you?”

“Trying to decide how long I’m going to give you to get your arm off me before I knock you into next week.”

The man jumped away in fright and Leo took a good look at him. A fucking hipster — barely into his twenties and dressed like his granddad. _Jesus wept_.

The man glanced up the street behind him to where Mels had gone. “Plenty more fish in the sea. Though not quite like her, I’ll wager. Can’t win ‘em all though,” he said with a smug twattish grin.

“You’ll keep walking if you know what’s good for you,” Leo said, puffing himself up to tower over the man, who cowered skittishly for a split-second before straightening himself out and looking Leo up and down.

“Authority figure,” he said with something that resembled disgust. “Be a bit more obvious why don’t you, River?”

“Have you escaped from some sort of facility? Because you’re talking absolute bollocks.”

The man looked like he was about to respond, but then spotted something over Leo’s shoulder. “Whoops! Here comes the missus, best be off!”

Leo looked around and a curly-haired blonde woman was striding toward them with her sights firmly set on the hipster-twat. It was like watching a lioness making a break for the one injured antelope when you knew that, basically, the antelope was fucked.

The man ducked to try to evade his missus’ grasp, but it was useless because she already had him by the arm. “What _precisely_ do you think you’re doing?”

The man tried to make himself taller as he said, “You told me not to interfere, so here I am, not interfering.” It was obvious that he didn’t even believe it himself, and whatever he was supposed to be not interfering _with_ , Leo had no clue.

“What if you’d miscalculated and she’d seen you — or Mum had seen you, did you even think of that?” the woman said, prodding her fella in the chest.

“Of course I did, which is why I hid until they were all gone. I’m not that much of an idiot, thank you very much.”

“You have to leave her alone to make her own mistakes and not let your stupid jealousy get the better of you,” the woman said.

“Wait, what? Jealousy? Do you mean Mels?” Leo sputtered out and the man gave him a pitying look over his apparent stupidity.

“Can you stay out of this?” the woman said and Leo obligingly took a step back.

This bloke was jealous of him and Mels snogging; no matter how he tried, he couldn’t picture Mels with _him_. But then why had he called the blonde ‘the missus?’

“I did let her make her mistake,” the man whined and then looked at Leo with the same disgust as before.

“What makes you think that was a mistake?” the woman asked, gesturing at Leo like he was a leg of lamb in a butcher’s window. “The mistake would have been for her to go home with him. But she didn’t. You idiot.”

Leo tried to pretend that his feelings weren’t hurt by that remark, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t, because neither of them were paying him a blind bit of notice.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away. I know I shouldn’t—” the man sighed, “I just want to make sure she’s all right,” The woman allowed him to stroke her face. “I know you do, Sweetie,” she replied and kissed him.

So she _was_ the missus after all, but Leo would never have put him with her either had he not been standing watching it. She was at least fifteen years older than him, classy looking and well put together. He, on the other hand, was a twit.

“You have to let her find her own way, she’ll get there, you know she will,” the woman continued.

Then Leo had a chilling thought. “Wait, you two aren’t her foster parents, are you? Because I swear, she told me she was eighteen, showed me ID and everything.” He put his two hands up and the couple turned their heads to look at him.

The man erupted in laughter. “He thinks _he_ was cradle-snatching! Oh mate, you have no idea!”

The woman glared at him, rage bubbling inexplicably. She punched him on the shoulder. “Shut up! You’re one to talk about cradle-snatching, aren’t you old man?”

She glanced over to Leo and seemed to be taking pity on him, which was a relief because that last exchange nearly broke his final remaining thread of sanity. She stepped up to him and placed a soothing hand on his arm, which he then realised was trembling.

“We’re not her foster parents — she’s an adult.”

“Are you related to her?”

“In a way.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, grateful for a straight-ish answer.

“Don’t worry about her, it wasn’t you. She was just at a bit of a crossroads in her life. Had you caught her a few months earlier you would have definitely been luckier.”

The man grumbled from behind her and she shot him a look over her shoulder that shut him up.

“Okay.” Leo just wanted them to go away so he could go and find somewhere to lie down for a little while.

“We’re going to go now, but have a good life, won’t you?”

Leo nodded.

She smiled gently at him and turned around to her fella, who took her hand and threw Leo one final self-satisfied smirk before heading back up the road. Leo could hear her giving him a ticking-off as they went.

“Do you have to be so rude? You got me, isn’t that enough for you? And mark my words — that’s the last time I’ll tell you _anything_ about anyone I snogged. You’ve proven you can’t be trusted. Congratulations, Sweetie.”

Leo decided to take the rest of the weekend off.


End file.
